Duchess and Her Sailor
by Snorcackle
Summary: Four years after leaving the Doctor and Jamie, Polly and Ben share one eventful night that changes their lives. Ben/Polly.


**AN:** So, on the off chance that anybody's reading this (because, apparently, people tend to forget about these characters), I apologize in advance for this story being a bit... well, it's just unrealistic. Sorry. Lot's of crazy fluff happening at once. But, anyways, Ben/Polly because they were, in my opinion, totally adorable characters and it's a shame so many of their stories were lost. Voila. I don't own these characters (duh).

* * *

Polly could credit three days as the strangest of her life. The first was the day she joined the TARDIS. The second was the day she watched as the Doctor completely changed forms in front of her and Ben on the TARDIS floor.

The third was the day she left.

It really was sort of funny, going back to a job and a social life after all this time. She hadn't any need of a job when she was travelling through time and space in a little blue box. Actually, when she thought of it _that_ way, she hadn't any need of anything, really. She had the Doctor. She had a home of sorts. She had Jamie. And she had Ben.

The absolute _worst_ part was losing Ben.

She got to keep him around when he came into port, of course, but those occasions were few and far between. If she got lucky, he'd be in town for a week at a time every few months, but that was hardly a guarantee. Polly hadn't any reason to worry on the TARDIS: Ben was always right by her side. There was danger, but, somewhere deep within, Polly always thought they'd make it out alive. They _had_ to.

The years dragged by to 1970. Time passed so slowly in the real world. On board the TARDIS, she could jump –_had jumped_- from 17th century Cornwall to the South Pole in 1986. Spending four years to move just four years seemed preposterous. It was odd how she'd seen Ben more during that one year aboard the TARDIS than she had in the past four years combined, she thought. In fact, she had only seen him _once_ during the whole of 1969, in March. He still flooded her thoughts, though she often wished he wouldn't.

How funny that a man whom she had seen just once last year still haunted her dreams. Sometimes, if she was particularly tired and no one else was about, she'd even picture him sitting with her, talking to her. Worse, she would talk back. These reveries were practically driving her insane, and she knew the only way to cure them would be to see Ben again, and soon.

The first weekend in October of 1970, Ben had come back to London. Polly was simply ecstatic when he showed up on her doorstep, an enormous grin spread across his face. "Hello, Duchess!"

She flung her arms around his neck, jumping a little though they were the same height, her feet flinging up behind her. "Oh, Ben, how very _wonderful_ it is to see you!" Burying her face into his shoulder, she could smell the sea air on him still. "It has been _far_ too long!"

He lowered her feet back to the floor, his smile bigger than before. "Well? What have you been doing since last I saw you?"

"Well," Polly pondered, "I'm not a secretary anymore-"

"No more Professor Brett?"

"No. He retired, I'm afraid, and I took that as my cue to do something more meaningful with my life. I've begun working with an orphanage, performing some lower-level social service jobs." She smiled. "And you? Still sailing, I presume?"

"What else?" He grinned. "I've even been promoted. Not an admiral yet, probably won' be for years, but I _am_ a Petty Officer."

"Oh, Ben, that's simply marvelous! Congratulations!" She noticed they were still standing in her doorway. "How rude of me! Come on inside; I'll make you some tea."

The two went on to the sitting room, and, within a few minutes, they each had a mug of steaming hot Earl Grey in their grasps. As they got on talking, Polly slowly began to realize just how much she had missed his presence, how she had missed the sound of his voice. Ben wasn't like her other friends: they were all far more prone to throw dinner parties, to go prattling on about the latest fashions, to fret over small matters. So long as there was a place for him to sleep, Ben was simply grateful. She had missed that so very much.

As the sky outside grew darker, Ben looked out the window and slowly rose from the loveseat. "I should be off. The barracks are some twenty blocks away-"

"Stay."

"What?"

"Stay. I want you here, with me."

Even Polly was caught somewhat off-guard by her own suggestion. She had been thinking it all evening, how much she dreaded his inevitable departure, and had been contemplating asking him in a much more off-hand manner than she just had. _This_, however, was spontaneous.

Ben looked concerned. "But a pretty girl like you's got to be seeing someone. He'd be right cross, now, wouldn' he?"

"There isn't anybody." Polly looked at him earnestly from the chair she was still sitting in. "Not since I stepped out of that blue box with you four years ago. A couple of boys have come and gone, but they haven't been right for me. No one's going to be cross. Just, please, don't go." Tears were welling up behind her eyes as another idea came to her. "Unless _you've_ got someone. I wouldn't dare stand in the way of that."

"No one." He cracked half a smile. "I mean, a couple girls in different ports, an' some of 'em were right smart, but they weren' you."

"So you'll stay?" Hope was quickly returning to her.

"But that wouldn' be _proper_, Duchess-"

"Oh, _damn_ propriety!" She stood up quickly, walking over to him. Grabbing either side of his face, Polly kissed him. Until their lips actually met, Polly hadn't realized how long she had waited for this moment. It was everything she had dreamed it would be.

Ben seemed tentative at first, unsure of whether he was _really_ good enough for her. It wasn't long, however, until he caved, as Polly so desperately wanted him to, kissing her back enthusiastically. Had he been just a bit taller, she imagined he would have lifted her right off of her feet.

The two finally had to break apart for oxygen. "You know, I'd quit the Navy for you," Ben murmured, leaning his forehead against hers. "I'd walk down to the barracks right now an' hand in my resignation-"

She hit his arm. "Don't you dare. You don't_ dare_ do that for me, d'you understand?"

He kissed her again. As he pulled back, he said, "Would you mind if I did it for me? I'd get to see you all the time, 'stead of once or twice a year. That past year was too much for me, an', if you don' mind, I'd rather not let you out of my sight."

"But what about what the Doctor said, about you becoming an admiral?"

"That old coot couldn' even fly his own time machine correctly half the time. I don' think ev'ry word ever come out of his mouth has to be true." He smirked. "He might be right about you takin' care of me; cor, that's cos I'm not smart enough by myself. I need someone to reel me in." His arms wound around Polly's back, hugging her tightly.

She smiled as she stroked his short brown hair. "Are you staying then?"

"Oh, you bet I am," he said, pressing his lips to hers once again. "An' _you_ are never getting rid of me."

The following kiss lasted longer than those before it had. Indeed, the pair had so much enthusiasm that they found themselves back on the loveseat, practically toppling each other over in the process. Polly was somewhat disappointed to have to pull away for air. That disappointment soon was replaced with shock, however, when Ben looked straight into her eyes and said just two words.

"Marry me."

She let her jaw drop for a second before even responding. "I haven't even seen you in over a year-"

"Yes, an' a couple of years before that, we spent a whole year fighting aliens in a spaceship." He grinned. "I know I can live with you; what's more, I know I _can't_ live _without_ you. So what do you say?"

Polly rested her forehead against his, debating within her own head. He was right, of course: they'd certainly spent enough time together, although a good deal of that time had been spent in fear for their lives, running from one monster or another. That last year spent entirely apart didn't seem to separate them now; it almost seemed like it never existed at all.

But what would people _think_?

She knew that she didn't give a damn what people thought. After all, she was a modern sort of woman, and it was 1970! What she did was her own business, and, if she wanted to marry Ben, so be it.

A smile slowly spread across her face as she said, "Yes."

The snogging resumed, much to Polly's pleasure. As soon as Ben resigned from his post, the pair ran off to elope, content to make their own adventures together, uncertain of what lay ahead. It might lead to France, or to Brazil, or to India. Who knew? Ben and Polly were both content with waiting to find out the answers.

One thing was for certain, however; that, even compared to riding in a spaceship, or watching a man change forms in front of her eyes, or deciding to leave a wonderfully beautiful lifestyle for the mundane, that chilly autumn evening would come to pass as perhaps the strangest –and definitely the happiest- of Polly's life.


End file.
